


A Blessing and a Curse

by Lunamionny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/M, Hogwarts, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Post-Hogwarts, Transfiguration (Harry Potter), War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23092834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunamionny/pseuds/Lunamionny
Summary: By the time Katie Bell left Hogwarts, she felt she knew Marcus Flint in a way her housemates didn’t. She wondered if maybe, one day, they might become friends, once they'd left the petty house rivalries of school behind. But that hope was shattered when Harry Potter failed to defeat Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts and Katie learned, to her shock and dismay, that Marcus Flint had taken the Mark and become one of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers.
Relationships: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54
Collections: Transfiguration: 2020 Round One





	A Blessing and a Curse

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2020Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2020Round1) collection. 



> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.   
> The theme for this round of the competition was Transfiguration and my chosen pairing was Katie Bell and Marcus Flint.   
> Comments/Reviews are encouraged by The Slytherin Cabal's Admin Team on all stories in Death By Quill, but comments left by readers are set to be moderated by story authors until the end of the competition in order to protect participants' anonymity.   
> Thank you to my beta for their time and help.

During her first few weeks at Hogwarts, an eleven-year-old Katie Bell fell victim to the castle's moving staircases and vanishing doorways and found herself thoroughly lost. What was more unfortunate was that she was discovered by two third-year Ravenclaws who disarmed her and backed her into a corner. She started trembling as they listed a myriad of jinxes and hexes they were going to use on her but, before they could make good on their threats, they were interrupted.

Luckily for Katie, a fourth year happened upon them. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a disgruntled expression and a green and silver tie, he loomed over the other students. Katie’s two persecutors cowered in his presence and, to her relief, scuttled off at his dismissive remark: “Piss off, knobheads.” 

When they were alone, the boy looked Katie up and down appraisingly, his dark eyes flashing beneath even darker hair. 

“Got yourself lost? Was it the middle staircase outside the Arithmancy class that gotcha?” he asked in an amiable tone. 

“I  – I’m not sure anymore. It was all so confusing,” Katie managed to say, her Gryffindor courage yet to have found its feet. 

The boy gave her a crooked smile. “Come on. I’ll show you back to the Entrance Hall.”

For the entire walk to the main entrance, Marcus Flint, as Katie later learned was the boy's name, disclosed some of the castle’s most invaluable secrets: missing steps, booby-trapped corridors, secret shortcuts. She barely had a chance to speak before they’d reached their destination and he turned to her, saying wryly, “Best to keep schtum about my gallantry. I have a reputation to uphold.” And with a friendly wink, he was gone. 

In her second year, Katie became a Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The Slytherins played cruelly, and Marcus Flint was no exception. During one of their brutal games, Katie lost control of her broom and careened to the ground, her long honey-coloured hair flying chaotically behind her like a rogue flag. Marcus dived underneath her and, with a mixture of magic and pure strength, saved her from crashing to the earth. Anybody who had been paying attention to them was unlikely to have seen anything other than a small scuffle. 

“Thanks,” Katie said with a grateful smile as she regained her balance. 

Marcus responded with nothing but a wink before swooping away. 

In her third year, Marcus pulled Katie aside as the Gryffindors left the Quidditch pitch after practice and the Slytherins were coming on. 

“You need to watch your right turn, Bell,” he remarked casually, as if it was perfectly natural for them to chat about Quidditch techniques. 

“What?” she snapped, narrowing her amber-coloured eyes suspiciously. Her Gryffindor courage had well and truly found its feet by then.

“It’s sloppy. You always lean backwards in a particular way that slows you down. And your left throw could be much better too.” Marcus shuffled uncomfortably and looked around him furtively before saying, “Meet me at the pitch later tonight? I’ll show you what I mean.” 

And so Katie did meet him, and Marcus did show her the faults with her right turn and left throw and, not just that, after several secret one-to-one training sessions, he helped her correct them. He was a firm and perfunctory teacher, distant but not unkind, and Katie respected his skill and, to her surprise, found that she felt safe in his company. 

Katie returned the favour by helping him with Charms, specifically revealing charms, something he struggled with. By the time Marcus left Hogwarts, Charms was one of his better subjects. 

During her seventh year, Katie Bell spent six months in St Mungo's due to the dark curse of an opal necklace. The healers tried several innovative new treatments to aid her recovery, and Katie was irrevocably changed as a result of both the curse and the healing magic. 

The changes were not initially obvious, but when they came to light they astounded healers and transfiguration experts alike. For the last two months of Katie’s stay at St Mungo’s she felt like nothing more than a guinea pig during the healers’ various tests. One of the few things that cheered her up was the regular gift of chocolate frogs she received, usually accompanied by a card that was simply signed ‘M’. 

By the time Katie left Hogwarts, she felt she knew Marcus Flint in a way her housemates didn’t. Knew that he was more than the thick-set brute her fellow Gryffindors seemed to think he was. She wondered if maybe, one day, they might become friends, once they'd left the petty house rivalries of Hogwarts behind. 

But that hope was shattered a year after Katie left school and Harry Potter failed to defeat Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts. A week or so after the battle, when Katie had become a fully-fledged member of the Order of the Phoenix, she was shocked and dismayed to learn that Marcus Flint had taken the Dark Mark and become one of Voldemort’s most loyal followers. 

* * *

**June, 1999**

Marcus had been summoned to Malfoy Manor to facilitate a ‘return interrogation’. They were fairly unpleasant to partake in but nowhere near as odious as some of the other types of interrogations the Death Eaters were required to carry out. 

This one was for Adele Caron, a Death Eater who’d been captured by the Order two months earlier and had somehow managed to escape. She’d gone to Beauxbatons School  – so Marcus did not know her at all well  – and, when she’d turned twenty, had taken the Dark Mark with apparent eagerness. 

Whenever a Death Eater returned from being held captive by the resistance, they were subjected to an exhaustive succession of tests  – various revealing charms and a thorough legilimency  – in order to ensure they had not been compromised or turned; that they were not, in fact, a transfigured or polyjuiced Order member. 

Adele passed all the tests with flying colours. Her physical form was one-hundred percent genuine; even her Mark contained Voldemort’s unique dark magic. Her memories were searched by fellow Death Eaters who knew her well and, again, appeared genuine and accurate. After the interrogation, Marcus was informed he would be working on the same team as Adele. 

A few weeks after Marcus had started working with Adele, he began to notice some very odd things about the French girl. Something about her gestures  – the way she flicked her hair over her shoulder, how she slung her bag onto her back  – were uncannily familiar to him. 

Her movements triggered memories for Marcus of Hogwarts, of all places. But they were vague and unformed memories  – of the castle’s chill corridors and dusty classrooms, of the smell of the Quidditch changing rooms.

Then, one day when Adele was casting a revelio charm, the way she flicked her wand brought back a clear and vivid memory, as if it had happened yesterday: of being taught that exact spell by a fellow student, in a more patient and understandable way than Flitwick had ever managed. And with a shock of a stinging jinx, Marcus realised who Adele reminded him of, and a suspicion started growing in his mind. 

But it couldn't be possible, and Marcus tried to shake off his speculations. Adele had gone through thorough testing  – any type of transfiguration would have been revealed and there was no way she could be taking polyjuice potion with the frequency she needed to  – it would have been noticed.

But Marcus’ suspicions persisted. As the weeks went on, Adele consistently provoked images in Marcus' mind's eye of amber eyes and honey-coloured hair, a fierce frown, the crimson and gold of Gryffindor Quidditch robes. 

Weeks turned into months and Marcus watched as Adele ingratiated herself with Bellatrix and Dolohov, and even became closer to the Dark Lord, becoming privy to some of the Death Eater’s most guarded secrets. She kept a careful distance from Marcus though, always walking out of the room when he entered and not meeting his eyes when they discussed strategies. 

Meanwhile, the resistance seemed to be gaining advantage in the relentless war that Marcus had found himself in. The Death Eater missions were often ambushed, some of the Dark Lord’s key followers were captured and killed, whereas the Order somehow found out about one of Voldemort’s secret prisons and, in an uncompromising assault, rescued a substantial amount of their members. 

Another suspicion sprouted in Marcus’ mind, growing like a poisonous weed: The Dark Lord’s army had a mole in their ranks. It was the only thing that would explain how quickly the tables were turning in favour of the resistance. 

The Death Eaters rarely flew, favouring disapparation as a much less cumbersome form of transport, but sometimes brooms were the best option. And so, sometime in October 1999, Marcus found himself flying above the English countryside with fellow Death Eaters in the midst of a violent storm. 

Like so much else about her, Adele’s flying was eerily familiar to him. He watched as she was blown off course towards a church steeple and performed a skillful right turn in order to avoid it. The sight of her turning technique made Marcus freeze mid-air as he watched; he knew that  _ he  _ had taught that particular move. 

It was impossible, Marcus told himself again. They had performed every single spell known to wizarding kind to ensure that Adele was who she said she was. And yet, the flying had tipped Marcus from having a strong suspicion to being utterly convinced. 

* * *

Marcus decided the only thing to do was to confront her. He had to know  – his constant, internal speculations were eating away at him. 

After a meeting at Malfoy Manor he waited until Adele was alone in one of the reception rooms, sitting on a sofa, sipping on a glass of firewhisky and staring into the middle distance. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t notice when Marcus quietly walked into the room and locked the door behind him. 

“Expelliarmus,” he incantated in a low voice. 

As Adele’s wand flew out her pocket and into Marcus’ waiting hand, her head snapped towards him, her eyes wide in surprise. She slammed her glass down on a side table and jumped to her feet, squaring her shoulders defensively. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Marcus? Give me back my wand,” she demanded, her French accent subtle but unmistakable. 

“All in good time,” he said softly, pocketing her wand and sauntering slowly towards her. “I think we just need to have a little chat, and I don’t want any wandwork to get in the way.” He gave her a tight, disingenuous smile. 

She took a step backwards as he advanced, the backs of her legs quickly coming up against the sofa. 

“How are you doing it?” Marcus asked, his voice steely. 

He noticed a chink in Adele’s normally collected façade  – a guarded flash of her eyes, a twitch of her lips. 

“Doing what?” she snapped. 

“Maintaining such an impressive disguise,'' Marcus stated, his eyes flitting about her face, looking for clues. “It  _ must  _ be some kind of advanced transfiguration, an incredibly rare kind that hardly anyone’s come across. That’s the only thing I can think of.” 

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was scathing but Marcus noticed an uncertainty around the edges of it. 

He stopped just inches from her and they locked eyes. Adele looked up at him, her expression defiant. Irritation sprang up in him and his hands twitched – _why_ was she insisting on lying to him? Surely she must know that he could see through her – she wouldn’t underestimate him this much, would she?

“Tell me. The.  _ Truth _ ,” he spat through clenched teeth, anger bubbling in him like the volatile contents of a cauldron. 

Her lips curled up into a teasing smile. “Marcus, are you quite well?” she asked in a patronising tone. 

It was enough to send Marcus over the edge; he’d always had a temper, although had become better at controlling it over the years. He grabbed hold of her shoulders and pushed her backwards onto the sofa so she collapsed against the cushions. He loomed over her, pinning her arms by her sides. 

“Stop lying to me!” he shouted. _ " _ Or I’ll tell him  – I’ll go to the Dark Lord and tell him my suspicions! He values my judgment  – he trusts me  – and he  _ will  _ take me seriously.  _ Tell me how you’re doing it, Katie!”  _ His mouth was so close to her face, stray strands of her hair fluttered with his breath. 

Her façade crumbled then. Her lips turned down and something new entered her eyes: fear. Marcus felt a small glimmer of satisfaction  – it was the first sign of any admission of the truth from her. 

Then he watched, frozen, as Adele’s features morphed into someone else’s: brown eyes lightened to amber, dark hair shimmered and glowed before settling to the colour of honey. 

Marcus stilled in amazement as Katie Bell emerged before his eyes. Even though he’d been so sure he’d been right, it was still a shock to see Katie laid out underneath him. 

“How?” Marcus asked again in barely a whisper, unable to hide the wonder in his voice. “How did you do it?” 

Seemingly aware that the fight was over, Katie sagged underneath his grip, but his hands remained clasped around her wrists, keeping her trapped beneath him. 

“The curse I fell victim to in my seventh year  –  Malfoy’s bungled attempt to kill Dumbledore,” Katie began explaining in a guarded tone, “and the numerous new healing techniques they tried out on me to help me recover  – it all changed me, right down to the cellular level. Afterwards, it turned out I could perform transfigurations that no one else could  – extremely advanced and unprecedented ones. I can change my appearance and stay like that permanently if I want to, and no other magic can detect it. What’s more, my brain cells can morph  – so that they take on the memories of the person I’m transfigured into, and I can block my own memories from any legilimency, without learning occlumency. Essentially, I can perform undetectable psychological as well as physical transfiguration.” 

Marcus was aware his mouth was hanging open in amazement as he took in all that Katie was saying. 

“Six months ago, Adele Caron was captured by the Order,” Katie continued, “they took her memories and managed to implant them into my mind. And so...here I am... How...how did you know?” 

Marcus swallowed, noticing his mouth was painfully dry. “You were pretty convincing...except your gestures  – little mannerisms...”

“You noticed such small details about me?” Marcus watched as Katie's cheeks coloured in a blush. 

“I noticed you more than you realised,” Marcus said gently. 

A delicate, fragile silence stretched out between them. 

Finally, Marcus broke it by saying, “And your right flying turn was a bit of a giveaway.” 

Katie’s lips turned up into a rueful smile. “I’d been hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”

“So you've been passing on secrets to the Order? That’s why the advantage has been shifting to the resistance?” 

With guarded eyes, Katie gave an imperceptible nod of acknowledgement and her lips turned down again, her expression serious. She shifted uncomfortably underneath him. The softness that had just existed between them was broken. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Hand me over to Voldemort?” Her tone was hard, but Marcus heard the vulnerability behind it. 

He scoffed. “What?” 

“You just said you were going to take me to him - tell him.” 

Marcus shook his head fervently. “No  – no  – that was  – I was wound up. I just wanted you to tell me the truth.” 

Realisation dawned for Marcus  – of what kind of person Katie thought he was. Despite what had happened between them at Hogwarts, despite letting Katie see parts of him he'd rarely shown anyone else, she still thought he was a loyal Death Eater, fighting the cause of pureblood supremacy. 

He relinquished her arms, pulling away from her. They both shuffled and adjusted themselves so they were sitting side by side on the sofa. 

“Katie, you think I _wanted_ to take the Mark?” he asked, offended. “You think I had any choice? He would have killed my mother if I hadn’t. You think I haven't hated every single thing I've had to do in his name?”

She looked at him intensely, her eyes piercing through him, as if trying to see right to his soul. She reached out and stroked the back of her fingers down his cheek, as if that could somehow assure her of his sincerity. 

“I still remember that tall, gangly fourth year boy that saved me from those bullies. Who taught me the best Quidditch moves for no reason except pure kindness,” she said with a plaintive smile. “I’m so glad he’s still here.” 

Something clenched at Marcus’ heart. “He  _ is  _ still here,” he said, his voice thick. He reached out and clasped her hand. “I try to mess things up for the Dark Lord when I can. Try to do what I can to help the resistance. But it’s been hard when I’ve had no contact with them. Now, though - now you’re here. With your skills  – your  _ powers  _ – and the trust the Dark Lord has in me  – we could potentially bring him down.” 

“You  – you mean you’ll work with us?” Katie's face broke into a grin and Marcus could hear the relief in her voice. “You’ll work with the Order?”

“Yes.” An unfamiliar feeling bloomed in Marcus  – a feeling he hadn’t felt in so long, it took him a moment to recognise what it was: hope. 

“Good  – great!” Katie grinned, her hand tightening around his. “Let's do it, Marcus.” 

“Let's do it,” he promised. 


End file.
